


A Distant Land

by KMoche



Category: Fruits Basket, Fruits Basket - Takaya Natsuki (Manga)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort emphasis on the Comfort, Post-Canon, Sohma Ayame is still The Most Extra
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-09-20 10:30:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17020983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KMoche/pseuds/KMoche
Summary: It was gone. The curse was broken. Now they were just fourteen people, with nothing remarkable connecting them, save for their name.But.But it was still there, would always be there, the omnipresent fine print to their happy ending.A collection of stories that ask the question: what came after?





	1. Bonds

She had screamed.

Akito had threatened and hurt and wept, all for the sake of that bond. Her contract. The promise that she would always be loved, that she would always mean something to them.  
And now it was gone. The curse was broken. Now they were just fourteen people, with nothing remarkable connecting them, save for their name. 

But. 

Maybe she would never know, but it was there, the omnipresent fine print to their happy ending.

Rin still woke screaming, inconsolable by all except for Haru, who could never rid himself of the guilt.

Yuki wore grey the day he was wed. Walking amongst the guests at the reception, he shuddered. No celebration should ever involve the colour black.

Tohru bought Kyo a watch, just after graduation. She knew he wanted to revel in the freedom, to have some outward physical sign of his liberation, but she couldn't take seeing the spark of panic in his eyes when he found his wrist bare, quickly replaced by relief, tinged with sadness.

Ayame still never could handle the cold.

Mayu had accepted long ago that Hatori had his secrets, which he would never share. And maybe it was better that way.

Sometimes, Kureno's eyes told Uo that he was gone to a place that she would never understand. Sometimes her hands skimmed the scar on his back, and she heard it. The not-quite-pain. The barest intake of breath.

They were happy. Truly, they were. They were finally able to live.

But.

They would never be able to forget. The bond had marked them indelibly. They could never just blend into the world. They could not even blend with the Sohmas, many though there were.  
They would always walk carefully through even the thickest of crowds, unconsciously remaining apart. They would always be wary with strangers. They would always worry that at any time, all this could change.  
And, just often enough to remind them, they would all feel the terrible emptiness they had felt that day. The feeling of an incredible loss, deeper and older than any of them could really comprehend.

So why did she cry?

She had marked them irrevocably.  
In a way, they would always belong to her.

Wasn't that what she had wanted?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why, hello! I hope to make this a collection of stories exploring something that has always fascinated me: what happened to the Sohmas, after the manga timeline had finished?
> 
> The first four chapters of this collection was originally written in 2012, but I thought I'd bring it back for the anime reboot! The characters are so well-developed and vibrant, and have stuck with me all these years, so I wanted to give them a voice. 
> 
> Also! They won't all be this sad. I promise. They'll have their small bits of happiness.


	2. News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A call home and some exciting news

"Hello?"

The voice was somewhat breathy, as if the telephone ringing had caught the answerer off guard.

"Uo-chan, it's so good to hear your voice!"

Arisa could hear Tohru smile.

It felt so natural for Tohru, slipping back into her native Japanese. The language here was strange, too many sharp vowels and hard edges that she could never quite get right. Kyo had picked it up quickly, through sheer force of will, she suspected. He was determined to make a life for them here, to learn all he could and eventually to take over the work of his father, all of which required the ability to communicate fluently with the locals. Kyo had done his best to convince her that her accent was endearing, that she was cute enough to make anything endearing, goddamnit. She saw the looks they got in restaurants, at the grocery store. Mostly they were pleasantly bemused but still, she did wish she was a bit better and...

But, ah, there she went again, thoughts scattering around.

“Tohru? Is everything okay with you and the baby?”

_Pull yourself together, Tohru! You have news!_  

"Oh, yes! The baby, Uo! We went to the doctor's today for another ultrasound."

"And?"

Tohru smiled at the memory of Kyo's face, the way it lit up when he heard the words that took her but a few heartbeats longer to translate: _It looks like you’re having a little girl!_

"A girl! That's incredible, have you picked a name?"

"Well, we discussed it. We were thinking... at first he was opposed to the name, as it's so close to his own, but she meant so much to both of us and-" Tohru broke off.

"You're naming her after your mother."

"We're naming her after my mother!"

"Kyoko would be so proud, Tohru"

"You know what? I think she would. Oh, Kyo's home with the groceries! I’ll call you after dinner, okay?"

"Wait!" Arisa cried, suddenly struck by a realization. "Did you tell Hana?"

"Not yet, but... I have a feeling that she just knows."

"Ha, yeah I wouldn't doubt it. Talk to you later, kiddo."

"Goodbye!"

Arisa set the receiver in its cradle. Looking down at her other hand, she realized that she was still holding something. She must have forgotten to set it down when she ran from to the phone from the bathroom. Arisa smiled wryly at the little pink plus sign. _Goddamnit, Tohru,_ she thought. _If they’re a girl, I was going to name her Kyoko._

A knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts. 

"Yeah, yeah, hold your haunted horses, I'm coming."

Arisa threw open the door and was not in the least surprised to see Hana standing there, regarding her with that placid look that seemed to put everyone else on edge but had always set her at ease. 

"How do you  _do_ that? Nevermind, I know you won't answer. Just come in and have some tea. I've got news." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh you KNOW they'd name their baby Kyoko and Kyou would cry his goddamned eyes out at the birth.


	3. Red

Ayame ran his hands down Miné's sides until they rested firmly around her waist.

_Waist, 75 centimetres._

Miné leaned back to rest against Ayame, whose hands had moved down to her hips.

_Hips, 102 centimetres._

Miné looked up at Ayame. "You, sir," she stated, mock-seriously, "are interrupting my cooking." She gestured toward the pot on the stove, stirring spoon now abandoned and laying across the top of the pot like a blue plastic bridge.

"Mmhmm..." Ayame replied distractedly as he brushed her hair out of her face. "I'm so _very_ concerned. What _ever_  shall we do?"

_She has such beautiful dark hair. And pale skin. Red, I think, should do._

Hands on her hips, Miné gave Ayame her sternest glance. He raised a slender silver brow in return.

"Shoo."

"Oh! So callous! So cold! My heart is mortally wounded by your cruelty!" Ayame lifted a dramatic hand to his forehead, tipping his head back and causing his silver hair to cascade over his shoulder as he feigned a dramatic death.

Miné, of course, was neither impressed nor swayed by his antics.

"I'm sure. You can come back when dinner is ready."

Ayame heaved a dramatic sigh and exited the room.

_Oh, my. I do believe I forgot a crucial measurement. No matter. I can get it... tonight._

Normally, it would hurt his pride, as a master designer and creator, to have to actually take someone's measurements. He was confident in his ability to judge such things at a glance. He contemplated this as he lay beside her that night. Her every dimension was burned into his memory, since the day his curse was broken, and he was able to hold her at last.

But he needed to be sure of these measurements. It had to be perfect.

\--------

Ayame was acting strange.

Well, stranger than usual. He didn't come to bed until late at night. His eyes had that squinty look he only got from performing intricate embroidery. Funny, Miné didn't remember any orders requiring such detailed work coming in to the shop recently.

Miné walked into the sewing room with a sheaf of papers, the day's orders, in hand.

"Ayame, we had a large order come in this morning. Six deluxe maid outfits in coordinated colours. Male clients, and quite burly ones at that judging by the measurements they’ve given. I wonder if they’re some sort of cosplay or performance group, that could be a good market to break into…what are you doing?" she asked abruptly, as Ayame hurriedly hid whatever he was working on. Miné caught a flash of red before Ayame stood, blocking her view.

"Oh, nothing. Six? My my, we  _have_ been busy lately..."

Miné fixed him with a flat glare. "What was it, Ayame?"

"Oh, my dear. You'll just have to wait and see, now won't you”. He winked, broad and cheesy.

Miné heaved a sigh. There was no arguing with Ayame when he was in a mood like this.

Hours later, Ayame leaned back and clenched and unclenched his hands, stretching his long fingers, which had begun to cramp.

Switching off his desk lamp, he smiled to himself. It was done.

As Ayame undressed and slid into bed, he thought about his plan for tomorrow. He'd always been one to give dramatic speeches. It had gotten him into (though somehow never out of, that seemed to be Hatori's job) many situations.

Yet, somehow, when he thought about tomorrow, he found himself quite tongue-tied. Miné made a content humming sound in her sleep and rolled over so that she faced him. Ayame smiled down at her.

_It will all be worth it. It is already._

\------

"Miné?"

The voice was almost a whisper, barely breaking through the fog of emerging from sleep.

Miné opened her eyes and blinked, a shape slowly coming into focus over the edge of the bed. The shape finally sharpened into the face of Ayame, kneeling beside the bed, head laid on one open palm and regarding her with gentle warmth in his eyes.

"Good morning, Miné! I have a gift for you!"

"A gift?" Miné slowly sat up, sheets rustling and fall down around her. She swung her feet, small and pale, over the bed to rest on the ground, and was about to get up when Ayame place a hand on her knee, stilling her. His hand was then replaced with a package, tied in red ribbon.

"What is it?"

"Oh, you do insist on ruining all the fun of surprises, don't you? Open it!"

Tentatively, with a not unremarkable degree of suspicion, Miné undid the ribbon and let the wrapping fall.

She gasped. "Oh! It's beautiful!"

She stood up and shook it out, revealing a red silk kimono embroidered with delicate flowers of gold. A plain, gold-coloured obi fell to the floor. She knelt to pick it up and found her hands grasped, her body turned to face Ayame, still kneeling on the ground.

"Ayame..."

"Miné. My dear Miné."

"It's beautiful," she breathed.

"It's more than that. It is, I hope, fit for a bride."

"Ayame, I...I"

"Miné, I have loved you since the moment I saw you. I knew I needed a seamstress of your calibre. I did not know what else I needed, that you would also bring. Every hour where I could not hold you was agony. But now I am free. I am my own man, and I want nothing more than for you to be my wife. Will you, Miné? Will you marry me?"

Miné placed a gentle hand on either side of his face, one hand still holding the kimono, a red silk waterfall from where it touched his face to where it pooled on the floor beside them.

She looked at him carefully, remembering the day he had first used those same words.

" _I was born to love you. And now I can. I'm free."_

She had known, of course. About the curse. He had told her the night she came to tend his fever and found a snake asleep in his bed. Later, when he had changed back and she had told him that it would take a hell of a lot more than that to faze her, he had told her that he loved her.

She loved him, with all her heart. Everything he did, from simplest tasks to the grandest schemes, he did with a passion. And ever since the breaking of the curse, that passion had only been doubled. He lived with all the fervour of one who had missed much of life and wanted to make up for it in every way.

She leaned her forehead against his, and, looking into those eyes, so open and vulnerable, waiting for her answer, she kissed him. When she pulled away, she whispered a single word against his lips.

"Yes."

Ayame's head slid down to rest in the curve of her neck.

"I love you," he murmured against it.

"I love you," she replied.

"Good! Now go brush your teeth,” he mumbled into her neck, “please."

Miné smacked his shoulder. " _You_  choose to propose with even letting me get out of bed. Don't blame me."

As Miné disappeared into the adjoining bathroom, she heard him calling over his shoulder as he headed into the kitchen, “I can’t hear your negativity over the sounds of the wonderful breakfast I’m going to prepare for my fiancée!”

As Ayame made good on the sounds part of breakfast, at least, a thought suddenly hit him.

_I forgot to have her try it on!_

He smiled to himself.

_Ah, that can wait. For now, I must call Yuki!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> I've always found Ayame and Miné fascinating, particularly because I think she knew about the curse long before she was supposed to. Ayame never did seem the type to follow the rules. Also I'm a sucker for characters that hide their emotional pain by being extra and dramatic, what can I say?
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


	4. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuki has a difficult conversation

Facing his mother was the hardest thing Yuki had ever done.

It was not necessarily because he was afraid of her, although the memory of her standing over him, cold and remote in the doorway of a dark room, indifferent to his pleas, was still fresh in his mind. More than anything he was worried about what this would do to her. Just her, as a person.

 Looking at her now, as he entered the kitchen, he wondered when she had become so small and frail. When had her hair, usually so meticulously styled, been left to sit in soft waves on her thin shoulders? When had her sharp and tailored suits given way to clothing that was more comfortable, more feminine.

He wondered when he had started to tower over her and regard her with a wary pity, as if she were a wounded tiger; he knew in the back of his mind that she was dangerous, but she just looked so... defeated. Perhaps it was because the broken curse had taken away her status in the family, her hallowed position as the parent of two of the chosen. Perhaps it was because her eldest son had left her, and her youngest was becoming so distant.

And so, it killed him to have to tell her that not only was he leaving, he wasn’t leaving for one of the fancy private universities the Sohmas wanted him to attend in the capital. The same universities Hatori had chosen from and Ayame (actually the brightest of the bunch, though he'd never admit it) had rejected to live a life of his own making.

He wasn’t sure exactly when he had decided he wanted to do with his life. Maybe it was when Tohru came into their lives and showed him the maternal care and guidance he hadn’t realized had been missing all these years. Maybe it was after Tohru left with Kyo, to start a new life in a distant land.

Or maybe it began the very moment his own life fell apart, sitting fearfully in a dark room, then facing Kyou’s anger as he called him spoiled, privileged, cold. He had given up on trying to make him understand that he saw in Kyou’s eyes the same pain and fear that he tried to hide in his own. Maybe it was that moment of realization that planted the seed, that no child would ever go through what he had for as long as he was alive to do something about it.

He had always known that he never wanted to be part of the Sohma tradition of becoming a doctor, or a lawyer, or a high-power business man for some fancy investment firm. He supposed that, when he was young, he had never really considered becoming anything, so sickly and so firmly in Akito's grasp. But when he had stumbled upon this idea, he knew it was right. Maybe, just maybe, he could mean something to people, the way Tohru had meant something to him to all of them.

"Mother?"

She did not turn from where she stood in front of the sink, staring out the window. It seemed so strange to see her in that setting, like she was a normal mother preparing dinner for the family instead of ordering the maid to do it before disappearing into her office with a stack of paperwork. He vaguely registered the glass of water in one hand and the two aspirin in the other; her small shoulders were so tensely set that they seemed to be trembling.

He hesistated briefly, wondering if she was okay, but took a deep breath to steady himself. It had to be done.

"I've withdrawn my applications to the Universities in Tokyo. I'm going to be studying on the coast this year."

His mother was quiet for a time. She placed the aspirin down on the counter before turning to face him. "And you won't reconsider?"

"I won't."

"Your tuition fund was conditional upon you going to an approved school."

"I don't want it. I have a job."

She whirled to face him, eyes bright with anger and something else he couldn’t quite name. Something raw and pained. Water sloshed up over the edge of the glass and ran down in her hand in rivulets. She made no move to wipe them off, and when she spoke her words were deadly calm and even.

"Then what did you come here for? To rub it in my face that you're leaving? Just like your no-good brother? To bring even more shame upon this family?"

Yuki cut her off with an icy glare. "I would be  _proud,_ " he ground out from between clenched teeth, "to be just like Ayame."

"Then do it. Go."

He wanted to be tough. He wanted to be cold, to pay her back for all the years she had treated him like property, a commodity to curry favour with the head of the family. But he couldn't do it. Maybe it was because he was weak, after all. Or maybe he had some sort of complex, the way an abused dog will continue to be loyal to its master up until its own death at his hands. He thought it was probably the water still dripping unnoticed from his mother’s hand, its soft muffled sounds as it fell onto the rug covering the cold tile floor

He couldn't do it. He couldn't leave it this way, he had to say something.

"I'm sorry," he said, softly.

And he left.

As he walked down the long path to exit the Sohma, he thought about calling Tohru. She would be proud of him, he decided, for facing his mother like that. She had been so excited about his plan to study psychology and eventually specialize in trauma counselling for abused children. She said she would support him in any way possible.

He knew she would say that. Tohru had channelled her own sadness into making everyone around her happy. She had taught Yuki a profound and fundamental truth; Sometimes the people most driven to help others were the most broken themselves, and that brokenness, properly applied, was a gift like no other.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I have a lot of feelings about themes of abuse, power, and recovery within the Sohma family.
> 
> It's always been a personal headcanon of mine that Yuki would go on to do something to help abused children, such as social work or psychology, but that would NOT fly with the rich and powerful Sohma family image. 
> 
> This ends the reposted chapters that I wrote originally in 2012 (although this chapter in particular was HEAVILY re-written and edited from its 2012 form). Chapters from here on out will come more slowly, as I'll be starting from scratch.   
> Thanks to everyone who has responded to the story so far, it brightens my day <3


	5. Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither of them are the people they were back then, and that's probably for the better.

Tohru woke with a start, and immediately mourned the loss of the sleep she knew wouldn’t come for the rest of the night. This far into her pregnancy falling asleep was a near-impossible task and staying asleep was even harder. When she rolled over to look at her husband, however, she realized this was not a normal middle-of-the-night awakening.

Kyou was breathing heavily, quick sharp inhales only interrupted by faint groans and whimpers. His chest was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, but when she reached out to touch him his skin was cool and pale. As she leaned closer to him, she realized that what she had initially mistaken as groans were actually low mumbled words, the same phrases repeated again and again. _I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I thought it was over, I’m sorry._

Tohru’s heart ached for the man before her. The nightmares had been common in the first few years of their new life here. Stress, the doctor had said, brought on by moving to a foreign land with a new language and strange customs and trying to build a new business and start a life. Not to mention the unspeakable traumas Kyou had endured at the hands of the Sohmas, though the doctor knew nothing of that. Over time they grew less frequent, less severe, to the point where Tohru had almost forgotten how bad they could be.

She wrapped her hand around the wrist closest to her, pinning it down to the bed to prevent Kyou from panicking when he woke and realized his wrist was bare, before he remembered that he was free of the curse that had kept those beads like shackles around him. Carefully, she leaned over him to firmly shake him awake.

In the years that had passed since the breaking of the curse, Kyou had lost many of his cat-like mannerisms. He no longer hissed every time a small rodent crossed their path. He restrained the urge to bat the mobile they had just set up in the nursery every time he passed it. But there were things he hadn’t lost. The easy grace to his movement, his quick reflexes, his keen and almost unnatural ability to sense when something was wrong and react in the span of a breath. Between one moment and the next he was wide-awake and braced over her, body taut and face twisted into something primal and near-unrecognizable, eyes glinting yellow in the low light.

The first time Tohru had seen Kyou like this, startled awake, animalistic and incoherent with fear and pain, she had been frightened of him. That fear had shown on her face and Kyou had broken from her grasp and reeled back as if struck, angry and ashamed at himself for scaring her. Before she could say anything, he was gone, fleeing from their room and out into the cool night air. He didn’t return until the middle of the night, shivering and silent, refusing to accept her touch until the dawn light began to filter through the curtains to illuminate her expression: worry and understanding and above all, tenderness. 

But that was many years ago now, and she was a different woman than she was back then. She tightened her grip on his wrist, anchoring him here with her, and met his wild eyes with a calm and steady gaze, speaking in a low but firm voice.

“Kyou, you’re okay. It was just a nightmare, I’m right here with you. Look at me, Kyou. It’s me, it’s Tohru. I’m going to touch you, okay?”

Tohru reached a steady hand up to his cheek, cupping his face gently. Kyou unconsciously leaned into her palm, seeking comfort in this familiar gesture of affection, and she released his wrist to bring her other hand up to his face. As if released suddenly from a trance, the tension drained from his body and he sagged, exhausted, into her hands while still holding himself carefully above her. His eyes cleared and met hers with a mix of recognition and shame. Always that lingering shame at being so vulnerable before her, his pain and fear and doubt so clearly displayed.

“Hi, love” she said softly. 

“Hey.” Quiet. Hesitant.

She stroked a hand across his brow, pushing back his sweat-soaked hair where it clung to him in tendrils. “You haven’t had a nightmare that bad in a long time, huh? What was it?”

Kyou started to pull away from her and she sat up to follow him, bracing a hand on the swell of her stomach to support herself. Kyou’s eyes flickered from her face to her hand, resting over the spot where hours before he had felt their daughter’s heartbeat.

Tohru’s eyes widened in understanding.

“Oh, Kyou,” she whispered.

Kyou pulled away fully and sat on his side of the bed, knees tucked into his chest and face turned away from her as he spoke haltingly, voice rough with sleep and emotion.

“I dreamt that she was born, and she was so small and beautiful, and you were so excited when you offered her to me. _Here Kyou, look at your daughter, isn’t she perfect, come here and hold her._ But when I held her I… changed. I changed into that thing, that _monster_ and when I looked at you you were horrified and God, Tohru, what if I can’t do it? What if I’m as broken and ugly inside as they always said I was? What if I can’t love her? What if I don’t know how? What if I don’t know what I’m doing and I fuck it all up and what if I’m still that monster inside?” His voice, which had been rising steadily as he spoke, finally broke. Kyou swiped furiously at the angry tears gathering in his eyes. When he began again his voice was painfully small.

 “What if I hurt her?”

 Something fiercely protective welled up in her chest at seeing Kyou, who was all fire and bravado and determination and _passion_ so full of doubt. For a brief moment she was angry, angrier than she had ever been. Angry at the people who hurt him, who made him believe such ugly lies about himself when they should have been nurturing him. Angry that he couldn’t just be excited about becoming a parent because what they did to him was so deep and so insidious that it made him doubt his very worth.

 Slowly she moved across the bed until she was kneeling before him. She placed her hand on his jaw and turned his face towards her until he met her eyes.

 “Kyou, you would never hurt her. You don’t have a bit of cruelty in you. The only ugliness in you is the pain and the sadness from the memories of what they did to you. But you are not what they tried to make you, Kyou. You’re so much more.”

 She guided his hand to rest on her stomach. “She’s going to love you, because she is going to know the man you are now, not the scared and angry boy that you were. She’s going to know a man who is determined and passionate and kind and so full of love for her that he’ll keep himself up worrying about if he is good enough to give her everything. That’s the man I love. That’s who you are, who you fought so hard to become.”

 She settled between his knees, no longer held tightly to his chest.

 “It’s okay to be scared. I’m scared too.”

 She leaned in to kiss him gently, then touched her forehead to his and rested there. “But there’s no one I would rather be scared with than you, the bravest man I know.”

 “Tohru, I… God what did I ever do to deserve you?”

 “You changed my life. Now come back down here and get some rest.”

 

Later, with Kyou curled up against her she ran soothing fingers through his hair, Tohru giggled.

 “What?” Kyou said, looking at her suspiciously.

 “Well, I was just thinking that you couldn’t hurt our daughter even if you wanted to because I’m going to teach her your ultimate weakness. I’ll fill her crib with leeks. I’ll buy her a little leek plushie and embroider them onto her onesies. It’ll be more effective than any magic talisman ever could.”

 Kyou feigned a look of absolute horror as he looked up at his wife’s smiling face. "You wouldn’t dare. My own daughter!”

“ _Our_ own daughter, and you know that I absolutely would.”

“You won’t have to,” Kyou said fiercely, all traces of joking gone.

“I know, my love. Now go back to sleep. At least one of us should get some sleep before she arrives, and you know it won’t be me.”

Kyou hummed sympathetically as he tucked his head back into her shoulder. As his breathing became slow and even, Tohru laid her hand over her stomach to feel the baby kick. 

 _We’re going to be okay, little one,_ she thought. _We’re going to be okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You ever write a chapter so emotional you make yourself sad? Who would do that to me? 
> 
> Reading back through my other chapters and apparently my personal bias that the Face TouchTM is the highest form of soft intimacy is coming through real strong ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Huge thanks to the Furuba discord for encouraging and inspiring me, as well as providing the spiciest memes. Feel free to vent your emotions in the comments!

**Author's Note:**

> Why, hello! I hope to make this a collection of stories exploring something that has always fascinated me: what happened to the Sohmas, after the manga timeline had finished?
> 
> The first four chapters of this collection was originally written in 2012, but I thought I'd bring it back for the anime reboot! The characters are so well-developed and vibrant, and have stuck with me all these years, so I wanted to give them a voice. 
> 
> Also! They won't all be this sad. I promise. They'll have their small bits of happiness.


End file.
